Adding a Page to Your Story
by TKDP
Summary: "I used to have an act, but I lost my wheel maiden." Finally, Lucifer tells the tale of The Fox and the Crane, also known as the meeting of the Painted Doll and the Scorpion.


**Hello everyone! Surprisingly, I'm already back with another Devil's Carnival fanfiction. What do you know? Anyway, I'm a huge Dolly/Scorpy shipper (Marcilie!), so I thought it would be nice to write a fic about how they met. Hope you enjoy! This takes place after 'After the Fall' but before the sequence with Lucifer and Painted Doll in the dressing room.**

"You're just in time for a story."

Wick cocked her head in confusion. Lucifer loved an audience, didn't he? Wick never minded spending time with the leader she was oh-so-devoted to, but she wasn't following him right now. Had a new sinner been admitted to the carnival and she hadn't been informed? "Sir?"

"I can see you're confused, my dear," purred Lucifer. "Allow me to explain. This is one of my favorite stories." Wick wondered if it had to do with the Painted Doll. Painted Doll seemed to be one of Lucifer's favorite carnies, and a most prominent act in the devil's carnival. "Do you know how Scorpion and Painted Doll met?"

"Hmm?" murmured Wick. Now that she thought about it, she'd never heard this story. In fact, she knew very little about Painted Doll at all. The silent sinner often kept to herself, and Wick was one of the last carnies to be admitted to the carnival. Wick always assumed Painted Doll and Scorpion always lived at the carnival. Where else would they, or any of the other wayward souls, be accepted?

"Ah yes, it is a wonderful story," continued Lucifer, as though he was speaking to himself. "Sadly, it is one that few sinners know. And you know that I don't enjoy keeping the best stories to myself, don't you?"

Wick nodded quickly. "Of course!"

"Good, good," purred Lucifer, grinning like a cat. "Take a seat, it's time you knew the story of…The Fox and the Crane."

 _Long, long ago, a crane was flying through the trees of a dark forest. New to the forest, she hadn't an idea of the dangerous creatures that lived in the shadows. On this day, it happened that a fox was passing by. The fox's sweet words, tickling the crane's curiosity, led the crane to accept the fox's invitation to watch him demonstrate a trick._

June carefully peeked around one of the carnival's many props, scanning the area to make sure no cunning or sneaky beasts were nearby. She had recently met Lucifer, who seemed almost kind, but June was no fool. She knew Lucifer could still torture her in many ways, and knew the carnival was full of sinners who commit unspeakable deeds and would be more than happy to help.

"Looking for someone?"

June jumped in surprise and whirled around. Standing behind her was a man, admittedly very handsome, with a large pompadour wearing a spiky leather jacket. Still, June knew to be wary of this man. June gripped the carnival prop she was hiding behind tighter, and shook her head quickly.

The man chuckled. "What, don't you speak, beautiful?"

June blushed. "Y-yes…" Why was it that this man was looking at her as if he knew something she didn't? And what was that in his eyes, that little glimmer of emotion that she didn't recognize?

"I know, this carnival is full of some pretty scary people, huh?" he said, almost patronizingly.

"You read my mind," murmured June.

The man chuckled. "We have plenty of mind readers at this carnival, but I'm not one of them. I'm the Scorpion, the one who shows up in the crystal ball when girls ask for the man of their dreams."

June chuckled. This man, the Scorpion apparently, had a much lighter attitude than she had experienced from most of the carnies. "If you aren't a mind reader, then what do you do?" Now, June felt her curiosity spark.

"I actually perform a… _different_ trick." For a second, the Scorpion looked thoughtful. "Oh! I know, why don't I show you my trick tonight? You can even be in the act, if you want."

June thought about it. "I don't know…"

"Oh, come on," purred the Scorpion. "Every act needs a beautiful lady."

"What, to draw viewers?" asked June, trying to sound sarcastic. She realized she sounded more flattered than flustered, and her blush wasn't helping anything.

"Hey, you seem like the type of girl who'd want all eyes on you."

"Well, can't deny that."

"If you were in the act, I'm sure everyone would be astounded," pleaded the Scorpion. "We could practice tonight. You'd love it, I can tell you were born for the stage."

"Well…"

"Please, gorgeous," murmured the Scorpion. "Come on, don't you trust me?"

Well, June couldn't very well say no to that, now could she? "Fine," said June. "One night of practice. If I don't like it-"

"I promise that you will," interrupted the Scorpion, taking June's hand and kissing it. "See you tonight…I'll be looking forward to it."

June blushed an even brighter shade of red, looking down at her feet in embarrassment. When she looked up, the Scorpion was gone.

 _As it so happened, the fox was able to pick up rocks in his paws and throw them with impossibly good aim. The crane, with her clawless wings and long, flat feet, could never hope to acquire the fox's talent. She could only watch quietly, knowing that she would never have the talent to survive in the new forest._

That night, June wandered the carnival, glad to see that most of the carnies were asleep. The only person around was a raggedy clown playing the harmonica. June, who had no possessions, had to walk away without giving the man anything. She silently cursed the Twin, knowing that this Hobo Clown needed the shiny pendant much more than the Twin did.

Out of nowhere, she felt a hand on her back, and jumped for the second time. "Hey angel," purred the Scorpion. June wondered if that was one of the Scorpion's many nicknames, or if he actually knew she was a fallen angel.

The Scorpion tossed a coin to the Hobo Clown, who responded with a joyful-sounding chord on the harmonica. June smiled. "You're so sweet, Scorpy." June slapped a hand over her mouth, not knowing where the nickname came from. However, the Scorpion only grinned.

"Hey, I like that."

June blushed and took his hand. "Well…I guess it's time for the show."

The Scorpion led June into a shimmering, red and orange tent. Inside, it was fairly empty, save for a target with some straps lining the sides. June couldn't help but wonder what the straps were for, but before she could ask, the Scorpion said. "Check this out."

The Scorpion pulled a small black object – like a handle for something – out of the pocket of his leather jacket. June stared at it, perplexed, and began to reach toward it. When her hand was only inches from the handle, the Scorpion pressed a button, triggering a blade to pop out of the handle. June yanked her hand away from the switchblade, staring at the Scorpion in disbelief. "Hey, I was only joking, babe," the Scorpion quickly reassured. "You know I'd never hurt you."

"Just show me the trick," June responded, testily.

The Scorpion grinned and wrapped his right arm around June. He held the switchblade in his left hand, between thumb and forefinger. In one quick motion, the Scorpion threw the blade at the target. It spun through the air at lightning speed before hitting directly in the center of the target.

"Oh!" gasped June. "That was amazing!"

"You know it, baby!" cheered the Scorpion, looking extremely proud of himself. "I'm the best knife-thrower this carnival's got."

June chuckled, amused by the Scorpion's pride. "I can see that."

"Would you like to see some more?"

"I think I have the time."

The Scorpion grinned. "Perfect."

For the next hour, the Scorpion tossed knife after knife. Not every one was a bullseye, but he never missed the target. At first, June was excited by the Scorpion's amazing feats of aim, but as the night wore on and June was given some time to think, she realized that she was practically defenseless at the carnival. As a knife thrower, there was no one the Scorpion couldn't intimidate. June couldn't throw knives, nor could she breathe fire, swallow swords, vanish into thin air, or do anything else that would confuse a crowd or enable her to escape a dangerous situation. June became more despondent, knowing she wouldn't last a week in the devil's carnival. _Whether I am in Heaven or Hell, will I always be destined to labor for the almighties?_

 _The fox, noticing the mournful look on the crane's face, realized that he could easily catch the crane off guard and have an easy meal. The fox drew back a stone and threw it at the crane's wing, crippling her. The crane luckily managed to hop away before the fox could attack, but she would never fly the same way again…_

The Scorpion noticed June's unhappy expression and took her hand. "Hey, what's the matter, angel?"

"I…don't want to talk about it."

The Scorpion looked thoughtful for a moment. "You don't have an act, do you?" June shook her head, sadly. "Well, that's no problem!"

"It isn't?" asked June, in confusion.

"Of course not," said the Scorpion. "Like I said before, you can join my act!"

"What should I do?"

The Scorpion only grinned and led June to the target. June quirked her eyebrows in confusion, but yelped because the cracks around her eyes ached. For a second, June remembered the Translators beating her, throwing her out like yesterday's garbage, far away from the people she loved. The Scorpion felt a pang of concern, noticing the tears welling up in June's one good eye, but quickly suppressed the sudden urge to console her. Where had that come from? The Scorpion hadn't a clue: He had never felt an emotional connection to the girls he seduced, but now he dreaded the moment his knife would pierce June's…

The Scorpion finished strapping June to the target and stepped back, spreading his arms in a mock 'ta-da!' expression. In an instant, June's sad expression melted away, replaced by the smile the Scorpion always seemed to put on her face.

The Scorpion stepped back, extending a single blade. The Scorpion decided to end this quick, surprised to find that he didn't want June to suffer the tension most girls experienced when the Scorpion came so close to cutting their flesh.

"You promise I'm safe?" asked June.

The Scorpion frowned. "Sorry…" He forced himself to grin, even though it felt like the corners of his mouth would split. "I had my fingers crossed."

In an instant, the knife was buried in June's abdomen. In the same instant, the sudden loss of blood caused June to fall unconscious. Before the darkness clouded June's vision, however, she was struck with the realization that the emotion in the Scorpion's eyes, the one she hadn't recognized, was…hunger. What she would never know, however, was that this hunger was not primitive and did not just seek her body. No, this was deeper, he wanted all of her…her mind, her soul, her _scars_. The Scorpion walked toward June's still body, fully aware that she was not dead…yet. The Scorpion felt a mixture of emotions he could never identify, but knew one thing for certain – that stab wound might as well have been his own, for it hurt him just as much as it hurt June. It probably hurt the Scorpion even more, because now he was forced to watch as the light was extinguished from June's eyes, a light brighter than any he had ever seen in the carnival. Even the fireballs in the sky could not compare to the brightness of June's eyes… _I performed my duty_ and _taught June a lesson for her curiosity…_ the Scorpion forced himself to believe. _Killed two birds with one stone._

But still, he found himself walking up to June's dying body, needing to say some parting words – _something_ to make himself feel better – to the most genuine soul he'd ever met.

"How quickly we forget the sting, my love…"

Lucifer paused, allowing the tension to build. Wick, however, couldn't stand the silence. "That's it?!" cried Wick. "But…how? They're friends now…what happened?"

Lucifer, amused by Wick's disbelief and glad to have a captivated audience, chuckled. "Oh, that isn't the end of the story. You see, despite not having teeth or claws, people often forget that a crane has a very sharp beak."

 _Although cranes are known for being kind and gentle as most birds are, the betrayal of the fox, who she assumed to be a friend, sent her into a rage. The crane needed to get her revenge, but how? Soon it dawned on her: Give the fox a taste of his own venom._

 _God. Cora. The Agent. The Translators. The Watchword. The Twin. The Scorpion._ Painted Doll repeated the names of every person who wronged her – even slightly – in her head as she pranced around the fairgrounds as if in a spring parade. Painted Doll – or, to be more precise, June – had worked very hard to earn Lucifer's favor and become a carnie, and was now one of the favorites of the Dark Lord. Now, all that Painted Doll thought of was revenge. The past few weeks in the devil's carnival had drained her of all remorse and mercy, until the fragile – broken – girl the Scorpion once knew was gone. Painted Doll had proved to Lucifer that she would do whatever it takes to fix her scars by breaking her enemies.

As Painted Doll danced through the carnival, she screeched to a halt when a beautiful stranger appeared before her suddenly. "Oh! Hey Dolly," purred the Scorpion. "Didn't see you there. It's been a while, hasn't it? Funny coincidence, eh?"

But it wasn't. Painted Doll knew Scorpion liked to hang out in this specific part of the carnie grounds – the part that served the drinks – and had planned to smoke him out, literally if necessary. (Painted Doll never liked this part of the carnival and desired to finish her business with the Scorpion quickly. Painted Doll felt she stood above those drunk and foolish carnies writhing in the mud.)

"Hey, I know we didn't leave things in a great place," continued the Scorpion. _Understatement of the year_. "How've you been? I think now that we're working together, we should patch things up, don't you agree?" The Scorpion knew he was talking way too much and asking way too many questions, and for once this wasn't a result of alcohol consumption. The Scorpion had learned from Lucifer that Painted Doll no longer spoke, but experiencing this in person was way more awkward than he'd expected. He figured it was better to fill the dead air with questions the Doll would never answer as opposed to drowning in silence and – he admitted to himself – guilt.

Painted Doll paused for a moment, tapping her lip, before nodding vigorously. A smile lit up the Scorpion's handsome face, and he surprised himself by just how happy he was to learn that Painted Doll forgave him.

"Great! Maybe we could-" Before the Scorpion could finish, Painted Doll pressed a note in his hand and closed his palm around it. Scorpion looked down at the note in his hand, but when he looked up, the Doll was gone. The Scorpion shuddered, but ultimately decided to read the note. Written in the most delicate cursive he believed no human could manage was one simple sentence: 'Dinner at dawn in the doll house.'

Scorpion sighed and shook his head, but he was grinning. Plenty of the girls he seduced did this – try to act all sweet in the hopes that he would take them back. That they would be 'the one' to bring out the good in him. Scorpion had hoped Painted Doll was better than this.

 _Driven by revenge, the crane worked tirelessly to survive in the new forest and match the cunning of its inhabitants. Preparation completed, the crane arranged for a dinner party with the fox, but decided to perform her own trick – a trick the fox would never be able to rival. She poisoned the jug of water used to serve their drinks. The fox was at first wary of the crane, fearing her revenge, but trusted her, seeing that they drank from the same jug. However, the crane held the poison in her long, unfeeling beak, unknowingly to the fox, not swallowing. The fox did not have this luxury, and died almost instantly._

Despite the Scorpion's disappointment, he decided to take the Doll up on her dinner invitation. A part of him – a foolishly hopeful part – was hoping there was more than just 'dinner' in store for him, though he knew asking the Doll would likely win him a mauling.

At dawn, the Scorpion approached the doll house. This was the name given to the pink-and-magenta-striped tent inhabited by the Painted Doll, used to lure in visitors with its charming cuteness. Because the Painted Doll was secretive, the Scorpion really had no idea what her act was or what she did to visitors in the doll house. When he inquired to Lucifer, Lucifer wouldn't say a word, only responding with 'you'll see'. The Scorpion's guess was that her act was similar to Hobo Clown's: scare newcomers to the carnival into the waiting arms of a bigger, scarier carnie. The Scorpion wasn't sure if his mildly sexist guess came from hurting women all his life, but he couldn't imagine the Painted Doll, with her demure demeanor and dainty frame, hurting anyone.

As the Scorpion opened the tent's flap, a shiver ran down his spine. _So_ this _is what happens to Lucifer's dolls._ All the dolls Lucifer collected, sent from heaven, were positioned around the tent. No, not scattered, _positioned._ Some were seated cross-legged, others turned as though talking to each other. All were cleaned, all were wearing fancy clothes, all seemed to be staring right at him. _Is this what she does all day?!_

Off to the side was a kissing booth. The Scorpion grinned, glad Lucifer hadn't assigned Painted Doll an all-too-strenuous job. Heck, killing (mostly) innocent women could even drain Scorpion himself! However, a small part of him hoped the men and women she was tasked to kiss weren't _too_ attractive…but then again, who could rival his own good looks?

In the center of the tent was a long table with two plush magenta chairs on each far side. Hung from the ceiling above the table were gaudy pastel fairy lights. A pinkish-white lace tablecloth was spread over the table, and a tea set, looking like it should belong to a child…or a doll, was set up on top. A rack of biscuits and other tiny snacks was the centerpiece of the odd arrangement. The Scorpion was surprised – this had to be the cleanest place in the whole carnival! How did she even get such good stuff in the first place? _Perks of being Lucifer's favorite._

The last thing the Scorpion noticed about the doll house was in the far corner, next to a garish carousel pony, was a comical clown cannon. Many were scattered about the carnival, but there was something… _off_ about this one. Positioned in the mouth, as if on purpose, was a stuffed dog with a bow around its neck. _What's that all about?_

Before he could walk over and get a closer look, a spotlight shown on one of the chairs at the table. This wouldn't be unusual, after all this is a carnival with many spotlights, but in this case no one was manning the light. No one he could see, anyway. Still, he did as the spotlight suggested and moved to sit in his chair. As he entered, he noted that even the dirt floor seemed to be clean. _Geez, I better step it up._

On the far side of the doll house, he saw a curtain swish, and just barely caught view of a movie star-style vanity before the curtains shut. The far side was quite dark so he couldn't see who was coming toward him. Logically, he knew it must be the Doll, but this whole room was giving him a very disturbing vibe.

As he suspected, the Painted Doll strutted over to the table. "H-hey Doll," the Scorpion said, trying to flirt while simultaneously covering up his previous nerves. _What I wouldn't give to hear her call me 'Scorpy' just one more time…_

The Painted Doll dipped her head in greeting, before setting two chalices that appeared to be crystal (but must've been glass…right?) on the table: one in front of the Scorpion, the other in front of the delicate china tea setting that must've been where she planned to sit. It still surprised Scorpion how the table setting was basically a giant tea set. Maybe he should've been a bit more curious, but right now his thoughts were…occupied. _I wish she'd sit a bit closer…_

The Painted Doll grinned: this was going just how she'd planned. She picked up a golden – albeit slightly dented – pitcher and poured a bubbly concoction into each of the chalices. For a second the Scorpion tensed in fear. Although the drink could've been sparkling water (he would've wondered how the Painted Doll obtained sparkling water, but nothing about this meeting was normal) it could also be much more sinister. Painted Doll had forgiven him, but despite that, she didn't seem to be in a good place mentally. However, she had served them both from the same pitcher. The Painted Doll would never put herself in harm's way – even if all the carnies were already dead, no one could stand the mental and physical pain of dying again. _And the guilt returns._ Guilt. What a strange emotion. The Scorpion had started to think he didn't possess it, but every second with the Painted Doll proved him wrong.

The Painted Doll raised her chalice as though in a toast, clinking her glass against the Scorpion's. She grinned, causing him to grin back. He was quickly embarrassed when he realized that although her grin was tiny and knowing, his was larger, goofy and love-struck.

At once, they both took a swig from their chalices. Scorpion leaned back in his chair, feeling a rush of dizziness overtake him. "What…what's happening?" he cried.

The Scorpion barely managed to focus his vision on Painted Doll, and what he saw horrified him. There was nothing in her eyes. They were dark, without kindness or remorse or love. The poison seeped through her lips as though she was salivating hungrily. Hungry. Why was that so familiar?

The Painted Doll grinned as she released the poison from where she held it in her mouth. She didn't have to worry about the poison touching her skin. Nothing could penetrate the skin around her head, which seemed to be cold and unfeeling. Aside from her wild displays of emotion and the occasional spasm, her face might as well have been dead skin.

The Scorpion grasped his throat, coughing, choking, gagging, before he finally fell out of his chair. He twitched on the ground as Painted Doll approached him and, wheezing heavily, he reached out a hand to her. The Painted Doll flashed him a gentle grin which quickly turned sour, before slapping his hand away. Horror flooded the Scorpion's mind as his vision went dark, realizing that he was being murdered, murdered by the woman he was almost certain he was in love with.

The Painted Doll crouched down beside the Scorpion. The wickedness that ruled her brain told her to celebrate, to kick dirt in his face or bite off his ear, but for the first time in weeks she listened to the faint voice in her head, the kind voice that was almost snuffed out by the darkness. The voice of June. _You can't leave him like this. He didn't leave you like this._

Painted Doll's lip curled in frustration. He hadn't exactly left her with much, just a couple of poetic words. And yet…those words stuck in her head, and drove her almost as mad as her heavenly past. She could never get the Scorpion out of her head. When she thought of him, her heart beat faster – at first, she thought this was the hotness of anger flaring in her soul, but now she was not so sure. Seeing the Scorpion laying prone in front of her unlocked a new emotion deep in her heart, and this time it wasn't pleasurable. Something in her revenge…was missing. _My happiness._ It was _never_ there. Killing didn't satisfy her. Even tearing out a tongue or an ear made her feel better than this. _When was the last time I felt happy_? Painted Doll knew. Her first 'date' with the Scorpion. She realized she felt a strange sense of compassion for the Scorpion, and thus decided to continue the trend of speaking poetically to the near-deceased.

"Never tasted as sweet a poison as you have," the Painted Doll whispered into his ear, her first words in weeks, before pressing a poison-lipped kiss to his cheek.

 _The moral of the story? Expect brutality in return for brutality, and never underestimate a creature with vengeance, no matter how great or small._

Lucifer paused once more, just to see how Wick would react. Once again, Wick wasn't amused. "Wait, _that's_ the story?! But they're friends now! How…what…?"

Lucifer chuckled. "Wick, the story isn't over."

"Oh…right," the woe maiden murmured, awkwardly.

 _As with many aspects of life, a fairy tale does not tell the full story. Perhaps the crane and fox could've made amends, but the fox died so we'll never know. However, as all carnies know, in the devil's carnival, sinners never die…_

A week or so later, Painted Doll was dancing through the carnival again. Her pleasure at killing the Scorpion was gone, but so was her guilt. He would live, and perhaps he would learn to never mess with her again. This should've made Painted Doll happy, and yet…the thought of never seeing the Scorpion's charming-yet-arrogant smile made Painted Doll's cold heart ache. He was the only one who'd made her smile since her time in heaven with the Agent and Cora…although, both would still have to pay dearly. Why was it so hard to balance love and hate?

With this thought in mind, the Painted Doll was surprised to see the Scorpion, casually leaning against a carnival prop smoking a cigarette, only a few feet in front of her. The Scorpion locked eyes with her, pulled the cigarette from his mouth, and tossed it on the ground, putting it out with his shoe. "Hey Dolly," he said, surprisingly softly.

Painted Doll's heart beat a mile a minute, but she refused to let him see her squirm. However, her heart could only beat faster when she realized he was leaning against the same prop she had been hiding behind when they first met…when she was June.

Painted Doll narrowed her eyebrows, then quirked one eyebrow. The question was surprisingly clear to the Scorpion…but how could he read the Doll so easily? _If you're plotting your revenge, you better believe you won't deceive me again. Aren't you angry?_

She must've been curious, because the Scorpion's eyes shone with anything but anger. "Nah," he murmured. Even Painted Doll allowed her surprise to show for a millisecond before composing herself – she clearly thought he read her mind…deja vu again, it would seem. "I'm not angry." The Scorpion chuckled. "Dolly…I gotta say, you messed me up real good. I mean, those dolls creeped me out enough, but the poison really blew my mind. How'd you do it?"

Painted Doll thought for a second, before grabbing the Scorpion's hand. He hesitated for a moment, but Painted Doll forced his hand against her cracked cheek. Her skin was cold, hard, like porcelain. She then dragged his hand down to her chin, revealing that it had the same hard, dead texture as her cheek. "Whoa," whispered the Scorpion. Before he could stop himself, he had taken the Doll's chin in his hand and was stroking her cheek with his thumb. The Doll thought to force him to stop, but realized the feeling of his hand against her skin was quite pleasurable. For the first time in forever, she felt a touch of warmth in her broken skin.

"Listen," the Scorpion continued. "I know we didn't start off on the right foot, but I can respect a girl who fights for herself. Not to mention, I find a vengeful lady rather…attractive." He winked at her. "Hey, if you can forgive me, wanna…grab a drink later?"

The Painted Doll frowned. The Scorpion was confused for a second, but then realized, given the context of their last 'meeting', a drink probably didn't sound too appealing. "Don't worry Dolly, I won't hurt you again." His eyes shone with honesty.

Painted Doll was surprised by the sudden onslaught of emotions that overtook her. No one in her life, not the Agent, not Cora, not anyone, had ever promised never to hurt her again with such authenticity. She took a step closer to the Scorpion, and he a step closer to her. Soon, the distance was closed between them. The Scorpion bent down so his forehead was pressed against her cracked forehead. " _Trust me, trust me, honey dew, just like…"_

"I trust you."

His breathe caught. Those were the first words he'd heard her speak since his death, and even those words were very faint. Now, she was looking him in the eyes, and he couldn't help but be enamored by her own. One green, one oversized and blue…still, her eyes shone as beautifully as when he first met her. He hadn't seen her eyes shine so brightly in such a long time. For once, neither of them were thinking about hurting others, but only of mending themselves.

"I like that," the Scorpion murmured, because he couldn't think of anything else to say. "Now, how about that drink?"

The Painted Doll pressed a finger to her chin as though contemplating the offer, but then suddenly pressed her lips to his. Before he could deepen the kiss, he realized she was biting his lip. When she pulled back, the Scorpion was staring in shock. "D-did you just bite me?"

The Painted Doll nodded enthusiastically, smiling brightly, as though biting someone was a perfectly normal thing to do. Still, the Doll's smile was infectious, and the Scorpion grinned even bigger when Painted Doll pressed her thumb to his lip and wiped the blood away.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'."

 **And that's my story! I think this is a really cool idea, though I still so desperately want to know how the Scorpion and the Painted Doll met! COME ON, DARREN! By the way, yes, I'm aware that cranes sort of have claws and yes I'm aware that this isn't exactly the story of The Fox and The Crane. I only wanted to keep to the moral of the story: 'do unto others as you would have others do unto you'. Like The Filly and The Lap Dog from Alleluia!, I decided to expand and change the story to fit my plot. Please review if you enjoyed! See you all soon, I'm hoping to make more Devil's Carnival fanfics because I love that movie so much! Here's my ideas, vote if you care:**

 **Cora/Painted Doll meeting fic: Although I ship the two, this'll probably be reminiscent of the Scorpion and Tamera (re: lots of revenge).**

 **Cora/June meeting fic: Much cuter than the idea above, this would likely be told from Cora's perspective and explain how she first fell in love with June.**

 **June/Amber Sweet short story: Crossover, based on a weird dream.**

 **June in The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls short story: Crossover, basically June's life if God sent her to the Asylum instead of Hell.**

 **Tamera/Scorpion meeting fic: Possibly revenge, more like Tamera getting some answers.**

 **Repo the Genetic Carnival short story (1): Crossover, I know this has been done many times but no one has finished a story about the repo people in Hell.**

 **Repo the Genetic Carnival short story (2): Crossover, unlike the first this would introduce the Devil's Carnival characters to the Repo world. Either this will be the Repo people plus the carnies, or maybe this'll be the carnies as Repo people. (If this were to be the case, I can almost guarantee June would be Shilo and the Scorpion would be Graverobber because swoon. I know it makes sense for Lucifer to be Graverobber, but I'm not a Lucifer/Doll shipper, so…no.)**

 **Possible others to come!**


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